A Thousand Words
by Cerberus Revised
Summary: This is a series of JR oneshots and short fics. The first few are Romantica, the rest Egoist. Enjoy! Rating of contents varies from "T" to light "M." Rated "M" for safety. Stories included complete. ON HIATUS FOR NOW with regards to new additions.
1. 1: Romantica: One Shot: Picture

**A Thousand Words**

**Picture**

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><p><em>A picture is worth a thousand words<em>, this is how the saying went and right now Akihiko was trying to locate each one of those to describe the breathtaking scene that lay before him.

He leaned back, seated in one of his dining-room chairs. Unusual for him, he wore nothing more than a pair of grey slacks, his lean torso bare. He tip-tapped the keys of his laptop while a smoldering cigarette wisped smoke from the mouth of the panda ashtray beside the computer.

As his fingers moved skillfully across the keyboard, Akihiko's eyes alternated between the glowing screen of the computer and the glowing flesh of his lovely Misaki.

He had surprised Misaki as he was bringing in the laundry from where it had been hanging out on the balcony, drying in the heat of the early summer sun. Akihiko had taken his young lover, after some persuasion of course, right there. They'd collapsed on the floor, limbs tangling atop the fresh sheets that Misaki had been carrying. It had been, as every time was for Akihiko, Glorious.

Almost a week had passed between them since they had experienced that kind of union. The build up they shared had been great and the power of their release, profound. Akihiko had exhausted Misaki with his attentions, to the point that his unusually modest boy was sleeping, even now, still completely naked amidst the crumpled linens on the floor.

Akihiko had always thought that it was in Misaki's sleep that the pureness of his lover's spirit was most clearly revealed: his countenance more ethereal than human.

Tousled dark locks curled around a heart-shaped face. A few strands, still damp from their exertions, clung to Misaki's smooth brow. Akihiko noted the fullness of his boy's kiss bruised mouth, the streaks on still-flushed cheeks left by the tears of their passion. One tear had not fallen and remained behind in the corner of one of Misaki's closed eyes, snared in thick lashes.

The sliding glass doors that led to the apartment's balcony were behind Misaki and the afternoon sun pouring in through the panes gave a haloed edge to his outline.

Lying on his side, one leg slightly bent, this posture gave a delicious twist to Misaki's narrow hips. He had one arm stretched out before him; a bit of the sheets balled in the grasp of his fist. The other arm was bent, fine-boned fingers curled like an infant's, tucked slightly under his chin.

A shadow caught beneath Misaki's jaw emphasized the delicate angularity of his face, the lovely length of his neck. Then a sudden shift in the light grazed the side of his limbs in just such a way that for a moment, the soft fuzz on his forearms was highlighted.

Something in the adolescent innocence of this made Akihiko's heart begin to flutter madly.

Caught in the folds of the wind starched sheets, lost amidst their white drapery, Misaki looked like a sleeping nymph. His beauty reminding Akihiko of Grecian marble: stone polished smooth by loving hands, exquisite lines carefully carved by a master. Only the subtle motion of Misaki's breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his deliciously concave belly, indicated that this sculpture was indeed flesh.

The residual trails made earlier by an eager tongue licking up Misaki's glorious torso were still visible. Akihiko's eyes followed these up, alighting on the pale petals of Misaki's nipples.

Gaze shifting, Akihiko followed the paths back down, traveling below Misaki's waist. A gentle peak of material obscured his view of his lover's most intimate parts, the velvet bag of Misaki's sac, the post passion flaccidity of his delightfully responsive member.

As though sensing Akihiko's heating thoughts, Misaki's emerald eyes opened slowly. The author felt the weight of his boy's stare upon him and lifted his eyes to meet this verdant gaze.

Akihiko held his breath: it was like having a deer wander into one's garden. He remained completely still, not wanting to frighten his wild, lovely creature into flight.

Surprisingly, rather than follow his normal pattern on waking, rising in a flurry of motion and retreating amidst exclamations of denial and disgust, Misaki continued to lie there, regarding him from beneath heavy-lids. His eyes were still slightly glazed from drinking, so recently and so deeply, the intoxicating liquors of love and lust.

The corners of Misaki's mouth subtly curled up and Akihiko was stunned to hear a satisfied sigh escape from behind tender lips.

Then Misaki's eyelids, drifted slowly down again and he turned his head slightly, nestling back in.

Hands stilled above his keyboard, Akihiko studied Misaki a moment , in a single fluid motion, he highlighted all the text he had just typed. Standing up, he slipped out of his trousers, draping them over his chair. He stubbed out his cigarette, and pressed the delete button.

The screen went blank.

Moving over to Misaki. Akihiko lowered himself and lay down beside him, carefully arranging himself around his darling's lithe limbs. Draping one arm over Misaki's shoulders, he nestled his silver head over the top of the unruly brown one.

Akihiko found himself blissfully enveloped. The afternoon's lengthening rays stroked the cool skin of his back. Against his front, he was warmed too as his boy pushed back, snuggling into him.

Closing his eyes, Akhiko breathed in the scent of Misaki's skin: of sweat, and soap, and sun.

_A thousand words is not enough…_

Akihiko suddenly realized, in this moment, that even if he used all the words of all the world's languages, they would still not be sufficient to express this picture of his love.

**The End**

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading.<strong>


	2. 2: Romantica: One Shot: Wonder

**A Thousand Words**

**Romantica One Shot: Wonder**

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><p>Akihiko stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter, arms bent at the elbows, his long fingers interlaced to support the weight of his chin. He was watching Misaki cook their evening meal with rapt fascination.<p>

Misaki pretended, meanwhile, to ignore him.

But every so often, Akihiko caught an emerald flash in the corner of Misaki's eye and knew he was being surreptitiously observed: his boy did not trust him enough (and rightly so) to leave him entirely unattended.

This thought made Akihiko smile.

Careful as he had been being, Misaki felt, more than saw, the grin and instantly knew that he had been caught in his reciprocal watching.

"You look like a child in that posture, Usagi-san," he scolded suddenly not looking up, cheeks bright. This was his way of conceding to Usagi-san, yet again.

"To be child-like is not a bad thing, Misaki," Akihiko murmured. "Children see the world through a lens of wonder."

A large hand reached out towards a freshly cut strip of cabbage on the cutting-board where Misaki had been chopping vegetables. Akihiko was mesmerized by how purple it was, the color so rich it was almost black. The veins in the leaf charted an amazing topography of growth.

Misaki lightly slapped his hand away. "Well, if you're so interested in experiences of wonder, you might want to wonder about what you could do to help me while I'm slaving away making your dinner."

His tone was mild as he said this, so Akihiko knew it was not a true reprimand. He arched his brow in inquiry at what it was he could possibly do to assist, when usually his mere appearance in the kitchen portended disaster.

Misaki finally looked up and met his gaze directly.

As always, looking into Misaki's brilliant green eyes brought a thousand metaphors to Akihiko's mind, none of them adequate to truly convey how much their color and expressive vividity thrilled him.

Misaki saw this undisguised awe and blushed anew. He looked away, turning to the sink to wash some more vegetables. "Would you, uh, mind getting the big mixing bowl off of the top shelf for me…Please, Usagi-san… I can't reach it."

Akihiko stood up instantly, wordlessly, and moved around towards the cupboards. He was delighted to be able to do a task as simple as this, knowing, that though the request might seem small to some, to even ask for something at all was difficult for Misaki.

"Try not to drop it," Misaki admonished. "It's my favorite."

Though his back was now to him, Akihiko was aware of Misaki's increased blush at this admission: he could hear it in his lover's voice. and was pleased. The bowl was one that he'd bought for him their first Christmas together.

Gripping the cool edge of the heavy ceramic, Akihiko plucked it easily from the high shelf. He cradled it in his arms at waist height and turned around, leaning back against the cupboards.

He shifted his grip.

If he did drop it, it would be Misaki's fault. His fingers had acquired a sudden tremble: it was a palsy of want.

Misaki had moved and was standing in profile to him now as he worked.

Akihiko watched strong, fine-boned hands as they deftly sliced and separated. He knew it was ridiculous to experience vegetal envy, but he could not help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched Misaki's slender fingers slick down the surface of glistening stalks. Lifting these from the sink, Misaki placed them on the cutting board.

Head bent, tousled-brown hair hung down into Misaki's eyes.

Despite the heat of the kitchen, Misaki wore an overlarge sweatshirt today under his apron. It was his cotton armor, donned to thwart any possible amorous assaults from his big bunny.

The over-long sleeves were pushed up past his elbows. Akihiko's keen lavender gaze followed the graceful sweep of one bare forearm as Misaki used it, his hand still holding the knife, to push his bangs away, clearing his field of vision.

Pale eyes drifted downwards from there, tracing the contours of Misaki's slim frame. Despite the attempt at concealment, Akihiko knew every inch of his beloved's body: the slope of his shoulders, the pearled ridge of his spine, the hollows of Misaki's hips, the veined length of his cock.

Akihiko felt himself to be Misaki's personal cartographer and his tools for recording his cherished were eyes, hands, tongue, cock, and heart.

Misaki shifted position. The khaki shorts that he was wearing came down to just below his knees. As he stepped slightly to the side, his calf muscles flexed. This simple motion sent a shiver down Akihiko's back.

Uncommon for him, today, Misaki's feet were deliciously bare. He bent one knee and the foot below it moved up on tiptoe for a moment, the heel bobbed, articulating some internal rhythm.

"Usagi-san, are you going to bring that over? Or are you just going to stand there all day staring at me?" Misaki asked this without turning around. "You know you look like a child when you slouch about like that too."

Stepping up beside him, Akihiko set the bowl on the counter. This time Misaki moved his head offer his thanks and unexpectedly found his chin gathered into a cool hand, his lips caught in a gentle kiss.

Before he had a chance to react, surprisingly, instead of pressing forward for more, Akihiko stepped back.

"If that means that I get to see the world through a lens of wonder… As long as you are in it, I should wish to ever stay a child."

Akihiko whispered this as he leaned forward to kiss Misaki again, this time tenderly on the forehead before silently drifting out of the room.

Misaki left now standing there alone in the kitchen, lost in a world of wonder of his own.

** The End**

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading!<strong>


	3. 3: Egoist, Rom: Short: Act I: Animals

**Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters.**

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><p><strong>A Thousand Words<strong>

**Egoist Short (Romantica Included)**

**Animals: Act I  
><strong>

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><p>"Hiroki, I need you."<p>

For Kusama Nowaki, those four words were all it took for Usami Akihiko to ruin a perfectly good day.

He and Hiro-san had been casually wandering in an unexplored part of the city on the rare shared day off. Hiroki looking for some previously undiscovered used bookstore, he simply looking to spend some time with Hiroki.

As soon as the call came over Hiroki's cell, however, Nowaki knew that he'd lost his partner for the afternoon, one way or the other.

Years ago, Nowaki came to understand that his lover was midwife for Usami's literary children and Hiroki would always be present to assist with the author's final push. He had also learned that if he kept his beloved professor from attending the laboring artist, that while Hiro-san might remain with him physically, Hiroki would be mentally absent for hours, feeling remiss that he was not there to see one more miracle of words enter the world without his careful support.

So now, because of this, he and Hiro-san were in the plush Usami apartment. Hiroki was pouring over Akihiko's newest manuscript, knowing that Aikawa was coming shortly to retrieve it.

The professor had already been over it once weeks ago, but Akihiko had made some changes and wanted his sharp-eyed friend to review them before he sent it off.

Nowaki sat uncomfortably on the couch across from Hiroki. He had chosen not to sit next to him, as he knew that would only tempt him to touch… And touching Hiro-san when he was editing was never a good idea.

Hiroki was thoroughly lost in the manuscript. It had taken less than a minute for him to fall through the portal of the page and into the world of words.

Akihiko was smoking, not nervously, but intently as he watched Hiroki peruse his pages

Anyone who knew Nowaki would have immediately identified his normally gentle countenance was slightly awry. This is because when he'd not sat next to Hiroki, Akihiko had slid silently in and claimed that spot. Nowaki watched Akihiko, the thunderheads building behind the seemingly placid front of his blue eyes.

From the kitchen, Misaki watched all three older men, with a sense of growing doom.

"Kusama-san, would like some tea?" Misaki entered the room to set the tray he was carrying on the low coffee table between the trio. He didn't bother to ask Akihiko or Hiroki. This scene, sans Nowaki, had played out often enough in the apartment before for Misaki to know that the two literary men could not be bothered with something as mundane as tea until a certain level of editorial resolution had been attained.

"Thank you, Takahashi-san," Nowaki accepted the tea with a smile, though it flickered slightly when his eyes traveled back to Akihiko.

Misaki blushed at the formality. He had met Kusama a few times now and liked him. The doctor always treated him respectfully and as an equal, not as a child, as he often felt Akihiko and Kamijou-san did.

After making sure his guest was attended to, Misaki took his tea and retreated to the dining table where his homework was spread out.

Standing up not long after, Nowaki approached the table. He didn't want to disturb the young man at his studies, but he needed a distraction from the irritation that was building inside him. And he was increasingly aware that continuing to sit there, staring at Usami, was certainly not the correct prescription for alleviating this.

"How are your courses going, Takahashi-san?"

Misaki extended his full bottom lip out and released a deep exhalation that fluttered his thick, brown bangs. This action was as articulate as anything he could have uttered.

Then, not wishing to seem inhospitable, he motioned to a chair alongside him, inviting Nowaki to sit down.

"Thank you, Takahashi-san."

Nowaki prepared to sit, though he moved around the table to a seat that gave him visible access to his partner and the author. It was not as though he expected the two men to start shagging there on the sofa, but Usami always made him feel uneasy and, as Hiro-san was there… Well… Nowaki was determined to see his Hiro-san that day, however this might have to be managed.

"Please, Kusama-san, call me Misaki."

Something in the earnest green eyes soothed Nowaki's irascibility. He could see why Usami would be drawn to the boy: he was lovely.

_Now, what Misaki might see in Usami on the other hand…_

Putting his quarrelsome thoughts away, Nowaki forced himself to smile. "Only if you call me Nowaki, then."

Misaki returned the smiled rather shyly, blushed, and looked back down at his papers.

"Okay, Nowaki-san."

Glancing over, Nowaki was just in time to catch the slightest of scowls gracing Usami's usually impassive face. The author's eyebrow twitched. It was obvious from his expression he did not approve of the familiarity developing between the pair at the table.

"Misaki, I don't see any of those sweets Aikawa left for you yesterday on the tray. Why don't you bring them out and see if perhaps Kusama-san might not be enticed to try one?" Akihiko's low voice unrolled from his throat like a bolt of silk.

Misaki shot a hard green-eyed stare at him. He'd seen his lover's disapproval as well and didn't appreciate the possessiveness.

"Why don't you bring them out yourself, Usagi-san?" Misaki's tone was polite but firm. "You don't seem to be doing anything but smoking and I am speaking with Nowaki-san."

Issuing no response to Misaki's words; instead, Akihiko adjusted his face back to unreadable, stubbed out his cigarette; and turned away.

This response was actually just as telling to Nowaki as an exclamation and though he knew it was wicked, Usami's discomfort gave him his first genuine smile in hours.


	4. 3: Egoist Rom: Short: Act II: Animals

**Disclaimer: I do not Junjou Romantica or any of its characters**

**A Thousand Words: Egoist  
><strong>

**Animals**

**Act II**

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><p>Now because of the kind of person he was, despite his huff, once Akihiko turned away, Misaki suddenly felt the need to offer Nowaki some of Aikawa's bakery bribes.<p>

"Would you like some of the sweets, Nowaki-san?"

Misaki asked this politely, though his eyes were still narrowed at Akihiko. Then they shifted to the tall man beside him, earnestly open once again. "There are some nice tea cakes. Honestly, I don't mind getting them."

"No thank you, Misaki-san. I'm not really all that fond of confections." Nowaki glanced over at Hiroki. "Besides, my life contains quite enough sweetness as it is."

It appeared that Akihiko was not the only one aware of the younger men's conversation. Nowaki watched as across the room, despite the fact his eyes never rose from the page, a crimson swell broke; rising up Hiroki's neck, spilling around his ears, and frothing over into the professor's cheeks. This reaction pleased him greatly, though Nowaki knew he would surely be chided later for his comment.

Misaki saw the tenderness in Nowaki's eyes as he regarded his lover and blushed himself. He was shocked that the doctor would be so openly affectionate. Not to mention that Nowaki would classify the infamous "Devil Kamijou" as "sweet." Secretly, he was also just the slightest bit envious.

Misaki consoled himself with the thought that Nowaki was six years older than him, however, so maybe this level of openness was something that he might come into with age.

Returning his attention back to his host, Nowaki looked down at all the scattered papers on the table before him.

"So what are you working on, Misaki-san?"

"Ah… I'm taking a creative writing course for distribution," Misaki whispered: Sumi had convinced him to take it with him and he hadn't yet told Usagi-san about it;

"Nowaki-san..." He had been trying to come up with an idea for an hour and hadn't been able to think of anything satisfactory. "What kind of animal do you think I might be?"

Nowaki looked at him with amusement. "That's a strange question."

"Well, my professor gave us an assignment to write about what animal we are and why," Misaki explained. "And then we're supposed to make up a story from that animal's perspective."

"Hmmm," Nowaki's handsome face became pensive. "Have you asked anyone else?

"Yes."

A bright pink bloomed on Misaki's cheeks. He had asked Sumi and few other students from class he had become friendly with. Their answer hadn't made him feel particularly virile.

"And what did they say?"

"A kitten," Misaki admitted with embarrassment.

Nowaki let out a chuckle. Clapping a large warm hand on Misaki's shoulder, he smiled down at him.

"You're hardly a kitten, Misaki-san."

Misaki had dropped his head when he'd given his answer but the warmth of Nowaki's laugh and his voice buoyed him rather than making him feel foolish.

As Misaki looked up, Akihiko caught his eye once again. While his lover's nickname might be rabbit, Usagi-san was no lepus brachyurus* in fact, at the moment he looked more to Misaki like a sleek, silver panther.

Akihiko's unblinking lavender eyes watched as, Nowaki, who seemed unaware of being observed, removed his hand and went back to thoughtfully sipping his tea.

Misaki saw his big cat's tensed shoulders relax minutely, but he had no doubt that as soon as their guests left, one green-eyed kitten was going to find himself gathered by his scruff; dragged into the underbrush of Akihiko's bedroom; and licked clean of all traces of the offending touch. Misaki blushed even more when he realized that this image made him just a bit excited.

As if reading his mind, Akihiko gave him a feline smirk before turning away again.

This disconcerted Misaki enough that it took him a a moment to gain the courage to look back over at Nowaki.

In the meantime, Akihiko slid a bit closer to Hiroki in retaliation. But the professor, who had honed his eyes and his ears to the activities of unruly students carrying on behind his back, had finally had enough of the two idiots' alpha-antics.

With a growl he pushed the manuscript up before Akihiko as though it were a shield.

"Enough, Akihiko, I've finished my corrections."

Hiroki was already anticipating a list of pleasurable punishments his giant would inflict upon him when they returned home for sharing their precious alone time with Akihiko.

"There's just one or two things I noted, though I'm still not sure about ending the book with a play on words. You know how I feel about puns."

Akihiko smiled, he did indeed know. Hiroki rolled his eyes.

"Come on Nowaki." Hiroki stood up and headed to the door. Now that he knew Akihiko's literary baby was breathing on its own, he'd let Aikawa come in, clean it up, and bundle it off to the publisher's nursery.

Nowaki rose from the table. "Do you need any help with the tea things, Misaki-san?"

Hiroki was already putting his shoes on.

Misaki pushed up from the table himself to walk Akihiko's guests to the door. "No, thank you, Nowaki-san. I can manage."

"Thank you for the tea and the conversation," Nowaki said slipping into his own large shoes.

Akihiko rose at last from the couch, drifted over behind Misaki and draped a claiming arm over his shoulder and across Misaki's slender chest.

"Let's go Nowaki." Hiroki stuck his hands in his pockets and lightly blushed, because he really wanted to take Nowaki's hand.

Before he stepped out the door, Nowaki called back to Misaki.

"You know, I think if you're going to be a cat, Misaki-san, you should be a meerkat."

Nowaki had loved zoology when he was in college and had enjoyed learning about the diversity of the animal world.

"They're long and slender like you and have large eyes. They're very social, attached to their family units, and been observed engaging in altruistic behaviors."

Then nodding good bye to Akihiko he added. "And, since they sometimes find themselves sharing their burrows with snakes, meerkats are immune to most vipers venom.

"And this makes them very special indeed."

Nowaki gave Misaki a sympathetic smile. "Good luck with your essay, and everything else, Misaki-san." He murmured as he softly closed the door behind him.

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><p><strong>*Lepus brachyurus- Japanese hare<strong>

***Meerkat- The ****meerkat**** or ****suricate****, **_**Suricata suricatta**_**, is a small ****mammal**** belonging to the ****mongoose**** family. Meerkats live in all parts of the ****Kalahari Desert**** in ****Botswana****, in much of the ****Namib Desert**** in ****Namibia**** and southwestern ****Angola****, and in ****South Africa****. -Wiki- The characteristics Nowaki described are all true.**

**Thank you for reading.**


	5. 3: Egoist: Short: Act III: Animals

**A Thousand Words**

**Three: Egoist Short  
><strong>

**Animals: Act III**

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><p>Hiroki and Nowaki lay together in bed, the sheets askew and still damp from their sweat. The window was open and a breeze carried in the warm afternoon air into the room, mingling the lighter smells of spring with the heavier scent of their sex.<p>

Nowaki lay on his back. One arm bent and tucked up, his shaggy head resting in the palm of his hand. The other arm was draped around Hiroki's smaller, but still broad shoulders. Hiroki lay on his side, resting in the nest of Nowaki's arm; his head pillowed by one of Nowaki's pecs. He had one arm curled against himself, the other rested on his lover's taut, still-glistening torso.

Nowaki loved these moments right after sex because Hiro-san always became so peacefully quiet. This was not a verbal sort of silence, as Nowaki had a hard enough time pulling words from his partner as it was, unless of course Hiroki was irritated, but a profound mental stillness. It was as if the tumultuous waves of thought constantly crashing against the shores of his lover's brilliant mind receded, offering Hiroki a momentary peace.

The fingers of Hiroki's one hand trailed slow, sticky circles around Nowaki's nipple, then slipped further down his side to graze along the ridges of his ribs. Always thinking in terms of text, Hiroki's fingertips traveled over the page of Nowaki's body, a braille masterpiece he never tired of reading.

They had come straight home from Akihiko's and, as anticipated, Nowaki had immediately given him the most exquisite sexual thrashing.

Hiroki always tried to be especially gentle with the younger man following a bout like this, as Nowaki never failed but to feel convicted after being so rough.

Hiroki smiled into Nowaki's skin. If not for Akihiko, they would probably still be looking at books; well he would be anyway, Nowaki following patiently alongside. Hiroki felt guilty sometimes for inciting his giant, as he had that afternoon, but occasionally he needed Nowaki's carefully measured cruelty and his pride would never allow him to simply ask for it.

Pulling the hand from behind his head, Nowaki ran his fingers through Hiroki's damp locks, sweeping strands back to reveal a delightfully furrow-free forehead. Hiroki sighed contentedly, unconscious he was doing so.

Nowaki smiled at how much Hiro-san loved to be petted, though he rarely allowed it.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki's mind wandered back to earlier that afternoon. "What kind of animal do you think I am?"

Hiroki sighed again, this time expelling a sound of reluctance. He was being drawn unwilling back into the world of words with all its attendant complexities.

"What would you think I'd say?" Hiroki's drifting hand settled on the subtle curve of Nowaki's hip.

Nowaki's tone held the slightest bit of trepidation. "A puppy?"

Hiroki heard and understood his lover's apprehension. As he was still feeling kind, he said. "Nowaki, don't you think you're a bit too sly for a puppy?"

One crumpled sheet was draped across Hiroki's hips. Even after all their years together, he was still shy like this. Nowaki on the other hand lay there, his lean form completely exposed. Dealing everyday with bodies as he did, he'd long ago become quite comfortable with his own.

Hiroki's hand traveled down and stroked the skin on the inside of Nowaki's exposed thighs. "I'm surprised, after what we just did, you didn't say stallion."

"A Stallion?" Nowaki felt the rare blush blossom on his cheeks.

"Yeah, with that black mane of yours not to mention your thick co…"

Hiroki's last word was cutoff. Nowaki knew that his lover would often throw up barriers during times of intimacy through the use of coarse words.

The hand that Nowaki had twined in Hiroki's hair had slipped down to catch his chin, a thumb brushed across Hiroki's bottom lip in gentle warning. He was not ready yet for the older man's roughness.

Surprisingly, Hiroki acquiesced. "No, Nowaki, I'd have to say you are a panda."

"Panda? Really?" Nowaki was delighted. He knew that Hiro-san had maintained a panda fixation since childhood and that there was no other animal he loved more.

Hiroki could feel the happiness radiating from Nowaki at this designation, and guessed the connections Nowaki was making in response to his assertion. Although, in his fascination with pandas, he had done quite a bit of research, and while it was true he did love the big fuzzy creatures; Hiroki also knew that despite their usually gentle demeanor and placid appearance, pandas had been known to attack humans.

However, this was generally out of irritation, rather than predation* and Hiroki had observed this same tendency in his own gentle giant, a time or two. Rather than point this out however, he decided he would allow Nowaki his pleasant, fuzzy illusion.

"And I would be?" Hiroki now had just a note of hesitancy in his own voice. A dozen animals had come to his mind, none flattering, most small and rodent-like.

"A lion," Nowaki answered without hesitation.

"Because I roar so much?" Hiroki drily supposed, though Nowaki felt the slightest swell in his lover's slender frame at his designation.

There was the roar of course, the shaggy, wild mane. Too he often watched Hiroki stalk words as he read, like the big cats hunted their prey, although Nowaki knew that in lion society only the lionesses hunted.

With his light sleek frame, perhaps even that was applicable here, though Nowaki would never say that out of fear of provoking Hiro-san's insecurities.

"There's the noise and the hair, but even more than that…" Nowaki recalled Hiroki's last exchange with Akihiko. "You know a lion is nothing without his pride."*

"Bastard." Hiroki growled.

Nowaki yelped, when the Kamijou lion suddenly attacked, biting his nipple, _hard._

The panda rolled over, quickly pinning his lithe cat beneath him.

"Now, Hiro-san, your "pun"ishment for this afternoon's interruption is over," Nowaki laughed before gathering Hiroki's lips into a crushing kiss.

**The End**

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><p><strong>* "Though often assumed to be docile, it has been known to attack humans, presumably out of irritation rather than predation." -Wiki- <strong>

*** A group of lions is called a pride. (I am sure most of you know that, I just added this note for non-native English readers.)**

**Thank you for reading.**


	6. 4: Egoist: Short: Act I: Comfort

**A Thousand Words**

**Four: Egoist Short**

**Comfort: Act I**

Nowaki staggered into the apartment. It had been the most miserable night at the hospital.

When he had seen Tsumori coming towards him at the end of his shift, wearing the particular expression he did whenever he was going to ask Nowaki for a few extra hours (it was a look the young doctor was more familiar with than he cared to be), Nowaki just shook his head before the man even spoke.

"I'm done, Tsumori-san," Nowaki had said firmly but respectfully. Tsumori's eyes had widened, but he'd nodded silently. They had worked together long enough now the pair's conversations had become incredibly concise. He'd heard about what happened and understood what Nowaki was telling him. With that Nowaki had turned and simply walked out of the hospital. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his work clothes and paid no heed to the strange looks this garnered him on the train ride home.

In the dark entry way, the young doctor didn't bother with the light as he gratefully kicked off his shoes. His heart was so heavy tonight that the comfortable warmth he normally felt upon entering the home he shared with his lover, breathing in the soothingly familiar fragrance of their mingled scents, even this couldn't lift the weight.

Nowaki stopped in the act of taking off the physician's smock he was still wearing when he noticed the faint glow emanating from the other hallway where their bedroom was located. "Was it possible Hiro-san was up?" Curious, Nowaki shrugged his dislocated sleeve back into place and moved through the space, opening the door softly and stepping quietly into their room, just in case Hiroki had fallen asleep with the light on.

Sure enough, there was his lovely professor, sitting up cross-legged on their futon with his back against the wall at its head. He was holding a thick wedge of papers in his hands, reading. The man had one of his favored red pens held in his sensual mouth; the pages he'd already marked were laid to one side. Hiroki's glasses had slid low on his nose and his thick hair was wild (not from sleeping though, Nowaki could tell, but from running his hands through it, as was one of the professor's habits of concentration. The pair sometimes joked that if Hiroki didn't watch out, he was going to stroke himself bald before he turned thirty-five.)

Hiroki looked up and his large hazel eyes grew when he saw Nowaki standing there in his scrubs and white lab coat. Usually Nowaki was meticulous about changing before he came home, even showering at the hospital so that he didn't bring any lingering traces of medicine or sickness into their space.

Seeing Nowaki in that outfit, Hiroki had to admit, never failed to thrill him. Nowaki was a handsome man by any standard, but in his medical uniform, the young physician positively radiated a deep, masculine sex appeal. Hiroki studied Nowaki for a moment, relishing the way his lover's broad shoulders caused the smock to drape, how the bright white fabric brought out the beautiful golden tones of the man's skin, the rich gloss of Nowaki's almost blue-black hair.

Hiroki plucked the red pen from between his lips with one hand as his other set the pages to the side. "You didn't give me a panda barrette this morning before you left Nowaki," he offered with a note of humor. It was a secret sign that the couple used when one or the other wished to deviate from their regular sex life with a bit of role play.

Nowaki offered his lover a smile acknowledging his appreciation of the rare jest, but didn't quite reach his eyes. "Another thesis student, Hiro-san?" he asked, nodding his head at the papers in Hiroki's hands.

"No, that ass Akihiko has to turn this in to his editor the day after tomorrow and just got it to me today," Hiroki growled.

"Oh."

That Akihiko had been occupying his lover, even in page form while he was gone, annoyed Nowaki.

Seeing the subtle twitch in the younger man's brow and sensing Nowaki's already melancholic state Hiroki made a show of grumbling, "I'm lucky, I suppose, to have the man's miserable prose to keep me distracted when I find myself sleepless and waiting for my partner to come home." Hiroki held up a page filled with sharp crimson slashes, as if waging war on the page and the man were the same.

It was rare for Hiro-san to concede to missing him and the vehemence of the man's marks were more indicative of hacking through, rather than relishing. There was also Hiroki's use of the word "partner". It was a term the professor had begun using lately, phasing out the previous designations of boyfriend or lover. It gave Nowaki's heart a jolt of pleasure each time Hiro-san used that word: it implied a permanence not found in the others.

Nowaki had also noticed that the man had begun employing it more since he'd finished his residency. He understood that with Hiro-san's careful attention to words and their meanings, that though he had not said it overtly, the man was telling him that now that Nowaki was finally a doctor he wanted his younger lover to understand he felt they stood on equal ground.

Nowaki offered his dear professor the first real smile he had given anyone since his shift had started that evening. Then the events of the night returned to him. Nowaki felt himself falter and the grin slip from his lips, though they tried to hold it in place.

Catching this, for the first time Hiroki's keen eyes noticed the small spots on the front of Nowaki's scrubs. There was also a spot or two he suddenly realized, low on the lapel of his white coat: blood.

Hiroki watched his beloved partner of over eight very carefully and waited for the other man to say something.

* * *

><p><strong>This is for my lovely fangirling twins… sorry it got a bit more serious than I intended. But keep reading… I hope to post the second part tomorrow. Just wanted to keep you in suspense a bit.<strong>

**Cheers,**

**Cerberus**


	7. 4: Egoist: Short: Act II: Comfort

**A Thousand Words**

**Four: Egoist Short**

**Comfort: Act II**

Nowaki stood there a moment and then dropped his gaze. His own eyes narrowed when he too saw the spots. It looked to Hiroki as if the other man was seeing them for the first time. Without a word Nowaki instantly turned and left the room.

Hiroki listened and as soon as he heard the shower running, he sighed. The professor capped his pen and set Akihiko's manuscript and his reading glasses on the nightstand. Then he stripped out of his pajamas, grabbed the extra blanket they kept for him from the foot of the futon, wrapped himself up in it, and resumed his previous place on their bed tucking himself in.

Not long after, Nowaki returned. He was wearing one towel, wrapped around and hanging low on his narrow hips, while rubbing his dark, wet head with another.

While Nowaki was occupied with this activity, Hiroki's eyes made an appreciative sweep of his partner. They traveled up the giant's long leanly muscled legs, over the hard planes of Nowaki's abdomen. Hiroki was entranced watching the flex of Nowaki's tightly strung arm as the younger man dried his hair. At last Hiroki's gaze came to rest on his beloved's face, a carefully arranged mask of concentration.

Hiroki blushed and his gaze drifted down again when Nowaki ceased what he was doing and rather suddenly dropped both towels simultaneously. Hiroki was impressed by the doctor's coordination and was about to make a comment on this, but stopped when he glanced back up and saw the younger man's eyes: Nowaki looked completely lost.

"Nowaki, what's wrong?" the expression in his lover's cobalt gaze pinched Hiroki's heart intensely.

Nowaki looked at the older man for a moment and then turned away. "Hiro-san, I'm cold," he whispered.

Hiroki's eyes widened with shock, hearing his own words come out of Nowaki's mouth. He knew immediately that Nowaki must have been feeling a world of pain. "Come here you big idiot," Hiroki growled, he made sure that his voice contained just the right amount of irritation to soothe the other. "Standing there naked, while visually engaging for me; is not going to help you at all." He awkwardly held the blanket he'd wrapped around himself open in invitation.

Nowaki's sad face at once took on an appearance of immense relief. Then he did something unusual. He lifted the blankets at the base of their bed and entered the futon crawling up from its foot. Hiroki watched with stunned amusement as the sheets swelled with the younger man's burrowing and suddenly Nowaki's blue eyes peered up at him from a cloth tunnel between the older man's parted thighs.

Hiroki shifted himself, leaning back slightly as Nowaki wrapped his long arms around his waist and rested his still damp head on the older man's low belly. Hiroki was deeply moved by how childlike the whole action was. He sadly imagined a young Nowaki, longing to do just such a thing as a boy and having no one to turn to. Hesitantly, Hiroki reached down and smoothed a few moist strands from his partner's forehead. Emboldened when this action drew a sigh from the other man, the professor continued to softly stroke the dark raven head.

"Nowaki?" Hiroki said the man's name in the place of his larger question.

He felt the broad shoulders below him tense and then softly Nowaki began speaking.

"A woman and her boyfriend brought in her six year-old son tonight. When his mother handed him to me, he was bleeding several places and had a broken arm. They told me he was playing in the stair well of their apartment building and fell down the stairs." Nowaki was silent for a moment and then looked up Hiroki, his azure eyes weighted with pain, "Hiro-san, when I examined him, I knew right away that little boy didn't fall."

Hiroki grimaced when he realized what the young physician was telling him.

Seeing his lover's understanding Nowaki nodded soberly and then laid his head back on Hiroki's flat stomach.

"As a doctor I knew I had to stay calm," Nowaki mumbled, Hiroki's belly had become his confessional, "the mother and her boyfriend were flighty and I didn't want them to try and leave with the boy until after I had a chance to call the authorities."

Hiroki felt Nowaki shudder. The professor reached down and pulled Nowaki upwards so that the tall man's head now rested on his chest. He wrapped his blanketed arms around his giant folding Nowaki in to him.

"I had to stand there and make small talk with the man, when all I really wanted to do was beat him the same way he beat that poor child," Nowaki said in a low husky voice.

"While the nurse was setting the cast I made the call," Nowaki continued, "When the police came, the woman started crying. I had noticed bruises on her shoulder when she handed her son to me the first time, so I thought initially she might be crying from relief."

At this point in his story Nowaki stumbled, "but instead she told me… I had just ruined her life… that now her boyfriend would leave her… and she and her son would have no one to support them."

Hiroki could feel Nowaki's grip around him tighten in anger and anguish. "When the social workers came to deal with the mother, the boy started crying and wouldn't stop, he was so afraid they were taking his mama."

An unexpected sob escaped from Nowaki's throat, startling both men.

Another threatened to follow but Nowaki swallowed it back down. When he spoke again his voice was calm, betrayed by only the slightest quiver, "Sickness I understand Hiro-san … traffic accidents, allergic reactions, any number of the unexpected things that can happen, I can deal with these. Though it saddens me immensely anytime a child is ill or their life ends, usually I am eventually reconciled to it, but this…"

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued…<strong>

Thank you **EFG** and **X**, my lovely twins...

and also

**MidoriTenchi90:** ever faithful, thank you so much for all the wonderful "Spatula" reviews!

**BlackFlamingo101:** "Misaki fanboy eyes," make it Nowaki and you got yourself a deal.

Miss Mysty, Puppyfacetwo and Yaoilover796- thank you for reviewing.**  
><strong>


	8. 4: Egoist: Short: Act III: Comfort

**A Thousand Words**

**Four: Egoist Short**

**Comfort: Act III**

Hiroki ran his fingers through Nowaki's inky locks and waited. He understood that the little's boy's plight had touched one of his giant's deep broken places.

Nowaki sighed and shivered in their blanketed embrace. "We used to get children at the orphanage sometimes who had been seized from their homes because of abuse," The tone of bitterness carried in these words warred with Nowaki's usually sweet voice. "It made me realize when I was a child that there were worse things than not knowing who your parents were, like having parents who would hurt you or who wouldn't protect you."

Hiroki felt the flutter of his giant's long lashes against the soft skin of his chest.

As Nowaki sighed again and shifted a bit, Hiroki reached down and somewhat clumsily brushed away the single tear that had caught in the corner of his lover's eye.

"With all the things I see every day, this is the one thing I can't reconcile myself to…ever…" Nowaki confessed. The young doctor dropped his arms from around Hiroki's middle and pushed himself up off of the older man's chest. He looked searchingly into Hiroki's eyes; his own held a silent plea for help.

"Hiro-san, it kills me when I think of that boy, that I can set his broken arm, but I still can't save his life…" Nowaki whispered.

Hiroki heard his partner's anguish. He raised a hand and brushed it gently against Nowaki's cheek. Before he could remove it, the doctor caught it with one of his own and held it there. Nowaki closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

"Nowaki," Hiroki started and then stopped. What could he honestly say to that?

Hiroki knew he could tell Nowaki any number of things: that the doctor had done the right thing as much as he could have in that situation… that the man couldn't expect to save the world… that now the authorities were involved things would be better for the child even if he was taken away from his mother and put into the care of strangers. But even if there was truth in all of these things, Hiroki knew that the words, in this moment, would be hollow to his partner and Nowaki didn't need any more emptiness.

No, right now what Nowaki needed was to be filled.

So rather than say anything, Hiroki brought his other hand up capturing his beloved's sweet face for a moment before he leaned in and then captured Nowaki's mouth. When he kissed Nowaki, Hiroki was shocked at how receptive the younger man was. It was not that he was being passive, Nowaki responded immediately and deeply to each brush of his lips, to the strokes of Hiroki's inquisitive tongue, but rather than reaching out tonight it seemed that he desperately needed to be reached out to, to be touched.

Hiroki broke their kiss, but continued to tenderly cup Nowaki's face in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together and the two men sat there for a time in quiet communion. Then Hiroki raised his head and kissed Nowaki's brow.

Hiroki pulled back after this gentle touch and looked deeply into his partner's eyes, and then he dropped his hands, leaned back against the wall, and opened his arms again. "Come here, Wa-chan."

"Hiro-san," Nowaki breathed, his eyes widened at the never before said name. A look of tremendous gratitude filled his eyes, but there was hesitancy in them as well.

"Wa-chan," Hiroki whispered again, his voice was exceedingly gentle, "come here." He reached forward and drew Nowaki into him.

It was a bit awkward given the difference in their size, but after a few minutes of arranging they were comfortably settled together. Nowaki sat sideways in between his lover's legs. His own long legs were bent at the knee and draped over one of the professor's lean thighs. His muscular arms were wrapped around Hiroki's neck; his shaggy dark head nestled against the older man's shoulder. Hiroki had one hand resting low on Nowaki's hip; the other rubbed comforting circles over his broad shoulders.

Hiroki felt the younger man's tension. "Nowaki?"

At the question, he sensed Nowaki stiffen even a little bit more.

"Hiro-san, is this okay?" Nowaki finally asked.

Hearing the unsurety in Nowaki's voice, Hiroki sought to soothe his giant's own particular pride. "Dumb-ass," Hiroki muttered, "Don't you think my backside wouldn't like a break from time to time?..." Hiroki added a bit of extra growl to his voice for good measure, "Especially after how you got after it this morning. No, just shut up and sit here. I'll let you know when I'm tired of it."

At these words, Nowaki immediately relaxed into his partner's arms. Hiroki was simultaneously pleased and dismayed by how much the younger man trusted him. As the two men sat there, Hiroki found himself desperately wanting to tell Nowaki that everything would be okay, but he was too much of a realist and in this moment he could only bear to offer his lover the truth.

The truth was that he loved him… that he was Nowaki's family now… that he couldn't make things right, but that he would be with Nowaki as the younger man struggled through all that was wrong. He offered this truth to Nowaki through his silence.

Nowaki heard it and understood it. Tears filled his eyes and he for once allowed them to fall.

The professor felt Nowaki's hot tears against his bare skin though his giant made no sound at all. The older man wondered how many silent tears Nowaki had had shed over the course of his extraordinary life. Too many he was sure. He gathered Nowaki closer.

"Wa-chan," he whispered the name once more as an offering.

Hearing this, a shudder wracked Nowaki's lanky frame and he finally broke down.

Hiroki held on to his partner until Nowaki's soft sobs transformed into the even softer breaths of his dreams.

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><p><strong>Please Review!<br>**


	9. 4: Egoist: Short: Act IV: Comfort

**A Thousand Words**

**Four: Egoist Short**

**Comfort: Act IV**

It was late afternoon and Nowaki and Hiroki were meandering through one of Tokyo's parks. Their schedules had miraculously coincided for once, so the pair had been sharing a leisurely day in each other's company.

Nowaki had just spent two hours following Hiroki while the professor browsed for books.

So now, in appreciation of the other man's patience, Hiroki lowered his pride and lied to the giant, telling Nowaki he was tired. He made this declaration and when Nowaki pointed out an empty bench, the professor feigned enough reluctance before agreeing to sit that the doctor didn't know he had picked this spot on purpose.

After Nowaki took a seat, Hiroki set his purchases between them, drew a book from his bag of acquisitions, sat down himself, and began pretending to read. Surreptitiously however, he was watching Nowaki over the pages: observing his lover was far more engaging at this point than any book, as the bench Hiroki had carefully maneuvered them to overlooked a playground.

Nowaki was observing the children with obvious delight. Hiroki had known that watching the brats play would please his partner. (Though he didn't really understand it himself. Hiroki would have thought Nowaki got enough of the little rug-rats at work.)

Nowaki was even more pleased however, when Hiroki extended one hand to him behind the cover of the separating sack of texts. As soon as Nowaki took Hiroki's proffered hand both men unconsciously sighed at the same time and settled deeper into the bench.

They had been sitting there about fifteen minutes when a soft voice called, "Dr. Kusama-san?"

Hiroki immediately tried to draw his hand back, but Nowaki held it in place. The older man scowled at his partner, but Nowaki just returned this look with a sweet smile.

Not wanting a perfectly good glare to go to waste, the professor turned his frown on the young woman who was timidly approaching them. Hiroki supposed he should have been used to this kind of interruption by now. There was almost nowhere it seemed the pair could go at this point without running into a one of Nowaki's patients or Hiroki's students. The main difference being the direction the person would move when he or she recognized one of the men: Nowaki's patients always moved in to greet the doctor, while the Demon's students generally tried to make a hasty retreat.

When Nowaki suddenly let go of Hiroki's hand, the professor looked over and saw a strange expression on his lover's face. Usually Nowaki was all smiles when he met his patients or their parents outside the hospital, but this was obviously not the case here.

Nowaki rose and greeted the young woman with a polite bow, "Ah Nakano-san."

The young woman smiled hesitantly and returned Nowaki's greeting. She looked over cautiously at Hiroki who had dropped his scowl in pretend pursuit of his book.

"Ah, this is my partner Kamijou-san," Nowaki said as way of introduction.

Though Hiroki was finally getting used to the fact that this was how Nowaki chose to introduce to almost anyone they met anymore, it still made him blush. He looked back up at Nakano just long enough to nod and then made a conscious effort to appear as though he was ignoring them both.

The woman's eyes widened as she glanced from Nowaki to Hiroki than back to the doctor again, her expression said she wanted to make sure that she understood the implications of the doctor's words. Nowaki nodded, in confident confirmation.

To her merit, Nakano seemed to recover from this information quickly. "I am surprised that you still remember me after three months. I mean, you must see so many people at the hospital," the lady offered shyly.

Nowaki looked at Nakano uncomfortably. "Well there are some things one is not likely to forget," the doctor said softly.

"Ah yes, Dr. Kusama-san," the young woman said, blushing fiercely. She looked away, "I suppose that is very true."

This sparked Hiroki's curiosity. Though he pretended to continue reading, he was very aware of an anxious energy being exchanged between his partner and this woman. When Nowaki asked, "and may I ask how your son is?" Hiroki noticed his lover's voice was very tight.

The young woman blushed even more deeply, but despite this she offered Nowaki an amazing smile. "Ah he's much better, wonderful in fact. His arm has completely healed. You know he still talks about you Dr. Kusama-san."

Nowaki's brow rose slightly at Nakano's words. Then, as though he had been conjured by his mention, a small wiry boy came charging off the playground and into the woman's side. He wrapped thin arms around his mother's waist and pressed his face into her hip.

"Mama, you said we could get ice cream soon!" the little boy admonished as he looked up at her, his big brown eyes glowing with excitement.

The woman ran slender fingers lovingly through her son's dark hair. "Eiji-chan," his mother said, "look who is here."

When the little boy saw Nowaki his eyes got huge and he lit up even brighter. "Dr. Kusama!" Eiji cried with delight.

Nowaki sat back down on the bench so that he would be on eye level with the boy, "And how are you doing Eiji-chan?" he asked almost hesitantly.

Eiji looked at Nowaki and suddenly got very shy. He looked over at his mother from under long lashes.

"Go ahead Eiji-chan," his mother encouraged.

With that permission Eiji surprised Nowaki completely. The little boy rushed over, threw his arms around his neck, and hugged him. "Thank you Dr. Kusama-san," the six year-old breathed, "you saved me and my mama." As soon as he'd said this, Eiji dropped his arms and bolted back into the playground, he darted into a complex of culverts constructed as part of the recreational equipment.

"Eiji!" his mother called after him in mock anger.

Nakano looked at Nowaki and shrugged helplessly, "He's become such a scamp these days." Then she looked over where the little boy was now cautiously watching his mother and the doctor from the entrance of one of the children's tunnels, "but it's such a welcome change from how he was when you met us."

The young woman looked at the ground and a new blush appeared on her cheeks. "Dr. Kusama-san, I'm so glad we ran into. You have been on my mind often. I have wanted to apologize so many times for the things I said to you at the hospital that day."

"Nakano-san, there's no need to apologize, it was a difficult situation" Nowaki started to say something else but the young woman interrupted him.

"No, Dr. Kusama-san, I do need to say this," the young woman look at him with an expression of conviction on her face that was completely different from the scared broken woman that he had met that day in the emergency room.

"Eiji's right. You didn't ruin my life you saved it… you saved us both," Nakano said looking down again. "You know that wasn't the first time we had been to the emergency room for Eiji… or myself," the young woman added softly, "but no one else ever seemed to see it or if they did, they didn't do anything about it."

Nakano glanced back over and waved at her son. He smiled, scrunched his nose, and waved back. She turned to Nowaki.

"When Eiji was born he became the most important person in my life, but then a bunch of things happened and well…" Nakano struggled to find the right words, "I had lost myself in that situation." She looked at Nowaki and her dark eyes were filled with gratitude, "it took you doing what you did to help me find my way back." She brought a slender hand to her eyes to wipe away a grateful tear as she looked over at her son again, "Eiji and I are living with my parents now and I am working and going to school. It's not easy, but it's so much better. We both have new lives now. Thank you, Dr. Kusama-san."

With that, the young woman bowed and then hurried over to where her young son was halfway hiding. When she drew close he burst from the pipe and into his mother's arms. The two stood there a moment lost in their own world. Then Eiji let his arms fall to the side and smiling up at his mother took her hand. She tousled his head and then the two of them began moving away from the playground. As they were walking away Eiji looked back one last time at the young doctor and waved with his now healed arm.

Nowaki smiled and waved back.

The young doctor settled back into the bench and this time he extended his hand behind the cover of Hiroki's bag of books.

Hiroki only made the man wait a minute before he replaced his hand in his partner's.

"Hiro-san, that was…" Nowaki words drifted off

"I know," Hiroki said not looking up.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Hmmmmm?"

"If you're going to pretend that you're reading you should probably consider turning the page occasionally," Nowaki said looking at his lover with a big grin on his face.

Damning Nowaki and his directness, Hiroki shot the younger man a fearsome scowl. "Shut up, brat…This is a really good book… I'm savoring," he stammered.

Nowaki said nothing, his smile spoke for him.

Hiroki harrumphed but then closed his book and re-placed it carefully in the bag.

"Are you ready to go home, Nowaki?" He asked hesitantly, aware that the other man was still processing.

"Do you mind if we sit here a bit longer, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, turning to look at his lover.

Nowaki's blue eyes looked lighter to Hiroki than they had for a long time. The professor allowed his gaze to become tender for just a moment before he snorted and turned away.

"Fine."

Nowaki turned back to watch the children again with a new smile on his face.

The two men sat together holding hands, watching the activity of the park carry on, seeing everything and nothing simultaneously. They remained that way until the light grew low and the playground was emptied as parents gathered their children to bundle them home before dark.

Hiroki felt Nowaki shift, signaling at long last the man was ready to move. Not that this really mattered to Hiroki, he had entered a rare place of peace that afternoon where he thought he could be quite content to sit there next to his partner like that for the rest of his life if that was what Nowaki needed.

"Hiro-san."

Hiroki turned to the sound of his voice and suddenly found his chin captured by one of his lover's big hands and Nowaki's lips on his. As soon as his startled eyes made a sweep of the area and he was assured they were alone, he relaxed into Nowaki's long and tender kiss.

Hiroki was almost breathless when the giant's lips finally left his. Nowaki didn't release his chin immediately; he held Hiroki's face and looked deep into his lover's eyes.

"Thank you, Hiro-san," Nowaki whispered.

"For what?" Hiroki grumbled, pulling free, standing up, and stretching his stiff limbs.

"You know," Nowaki said rising himself he picked up Hiroki's bag of books.

Hiroki pretended he had to think about it, "Oh you mean for not smacking you for being such an idiot as to kiss me in public."

Nowaki shook his head at his lover's pride, "Yeah exactly, Hiro-san."

"Well if you really want to thank me you can carry those home," Hiroki said knowing Nowaki would anyway.

As they left the park walking side by side Hiroki added, "And you can buy me dinner at Pandasan, Doctor. I'm starving."

"Sure thing, Hiro-san," Nowaki said smiling as the two men began moving homewards.

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>Miss Mysty, Midoritenchi90, Puppyfacetwo<strong>- Thank you for the reviews.

**Egoist Fangirl: **Thank you for the tender review. I agree the softer side of Hiroki is not often given enough credit. Besides, at this point they've been together for how many years? I think that's grounds for depicting a bit of intimacy.

**BlackFlamingo 101:** I can think of no higher compliment than "manly." To be able to show intimacy with out feminizing the characters is one of the things I aspire to.

**Yaoilover796:** I am glad you like the fic, but I am afraid that I disagree that Hiroki is OOC. I think there are many things in the canon that indicate the possibility of this kind of interaction.

PrincessFuFU- Thank you for the kind words. I am glad I can continue to surprise.


	10. 5: Egoist: Short: Act I: Workout

**Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters.  
><strong>

**A Thousand Words**

**Five: Egoist Short**

**Workout: Act I**

Hiroki and Nowaki were at the University's fitness center. They had been coming here for some weeks now to work out. The institution had recently offered free use of the facilities not just to professors but their spouses as well, in the hopes that couples exercising together might lead to a healthier faculty body.

Hiroki had been apprehensive at first about having Nowaki join him. In part, as the policy wasn't as clear on partners as it was about spouses, but he was tired of playing racquetball with Miyagi for exercise (the older man cheated and left the court too often to go outside and smoke). Hiroki wasn't sure actually which had ended up being more disconcerting, asking for the papers to get Nowaki an access card or finding out when he requested them that the administrative assistant already knew exactly who his partner was, though the professor had never mentioned Nowaki to her.

Regardless, now they were going to the gym regularly (or as regularly as their hectic schedules allowed). Hiroki because he was nearing thirty and wanted to avoid for as long as possible the pitfalls and pot bellies of middle age. Besides, being with a younger man, he felt he needed to stay fit, not that Nowaki really seemed to care that much… but Hiroki was not one to be complacent. Nowaki, on the other hand, was doing it to spend time with Hiroki and because he'd been warned recently by his Senpai to start taking better care of himself before his hectic schedule and the stress of medical practice took its toll on his health.

Though they went to work out together, once they got there each man went his own way. Nowaki enjoyed lifting weights; Hiroki was more a treadmill kind of guy. That was where Hiroki was now: running. It was something he could do for hours, the stretch of his limbs and the rhythm of his footfalls easily became for him a kind of moving meditation.

The other physical activity (besides sex) that Hiroki could do for hours was swimming. Not surprisingly, given his upbringing, Nowaki didn't know how to swim, but he was learning.

Hiroki had gotten permission from the coach of the swim team to come in with Nowaki after the team's last practice on Sundays when the pool was empty. He was tutoring the man's daughter once a week in exchange for the privilege. Fortunately, she was a bright girl and since she had at least some aptitude, it wasn't as awful as it could have been.

Hiroki smiled to himself as he thought of his and Nowaki's most recent lesson. It was not just that he got to see the doctor in his swim trunks, which was indeed a smile worthy sight (or perhaps more accurately leer worthy); it was that he had taught Nowaki how to float on his back.

Now, while Nowaki was not afraid of the water, he was certainly not comfortable in it yet. Hiroki hated to admit it, but there was something terribly appealing to him in a slightly shy giant, not to mention the younger man's trepidation stroked his ego just a bit. Plus, though Hiroki had feigned aggravation, when Nowaki showed his partner that he trusted him enough to lie back and allow himself to float, supported initially only by Hiroki's hands under his back (though he would never say this), this had been a very moving moment for the older man. It meant a lot to Hiroki that Nowaki was willing to put so much faith in him.

Hiroki broke from his musings and turned to look at Nowaki, who was doing weight work across the gym. He had been fortunate today because when they'd arrived, his favorite treadmill had been free. This one gave him a good view of the weight room so, in addition to his running contemplations, Hiroki was able to freely contemplate his giant working out as well.

Now, when it came to Nowaki's body, Hiroki had had no complaints at all before, in fact the reality that his lover's form could be improved upon had come to him as a bit of a shock. Still however, though they had only been coming a few weeks, Nowaki's body had responded immediately and beautifully to their workouts. The man was already visibly bigger and tighter than he had been when they'd started.

Hiroki's breathing grew more labored, though not necessarily from his running: while the slightly wary pool Nowaki was sweetly touching, the intensely focused weightlifting Nowaki was incredibly hot.

Today Nowaki was wearing a pair of black sweats that had been cutoff slightly below the knees revealing the man's long tightly muscled calves. The dark fabric gave the man's skin a rich golden tone. Surprisingly this same effect was achieved for Nowaki's upper body though through a different medium: a bright white tank top. It had surprised Hiroki to see his giant in this, as Nowaki usually preferred darker colors. The neck of the tank dipped down low, as well as where the shirt was cut under the arms. As a result, wonderful glimpses of the giant's exercise flushed flesh were occasionally visible.

Nowaki was working his way through the rotation of the various Nautilus machines and was currently using the chest press. Hiroki couldn't help but admire the way the man looked as he used the equipment, his torso slightly tipped back, thighs splayed, a slight sheen of sweat on the visible skin of Nowaki's chest, the beautiful flex of it as the man brought his elbows together, straining (though not too vigorously) against the machine's tension. The open and close of Nowaki's tightly muscled arms reminded Hiroki of the powerful, magnificent flap of the wings of a settling prey bird.

Mesmerized by Nowaki's motions Hiroki's pace faltered and he had to tear his eyes away before he tripped (yet again). He growled with frustration, but only momentarily, knowing that before long they'd be hitting the showers together.

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	11. 5: Egoist: Short: Act II: Workout

**A Thousand Words**

**Five: Egoist Short**

**Workout: Act II**

Nowaki was working out on the chest-press machine; his muscles were pleasantly buzzing. He felt the sweat running down his back, catching the waistband of his cutoff sweats. After seeing everyday all the ways that things could go wrong in a person, his physician's mind marveled at the wonder of how perfectly his well body functioned.

The young doctor smiled. If he was completely honest, when Hiro-san had first approached him with the whole gym thing, initially he had not really been interested in the idea of working out. For one, he was often tired given his grueling schedule and would rather be resting when he didn't have work. For another, if he was going to be physical, there were other forms of _"_activity" he preferred to engage in.

Unfortunately, that activity required a cooperative Hiro-san, which is why in the beginning Nowaki had agreed.

Since then however, Nowaki had discovered that besides the fact his new gym access card documented his status officially as his lover's "partner," there were other benefits to this whole fitness kick that Hiroki was on right now. The medic had found rather quickly in fact, that he really did feel better and had more energy once he had begun exercising.

Nowaki had chosen to go the weight route because as tall as he was he had never felt particularly agile. So running did not appeal to him and his long legs complicated stationary bikes and rowing machines. He had been surprised to realize that what he most liked about working out with the various machines and weights was coming up against that sense of heavy resistance and pushing through it.

Nowaki thought that in some ways, this experience served as an appropriate metaphor for much of his life. After all, there were few things in his almost twenty-six years that he had accomplished without initially meeting some serious resistance (going to college, becoming a doctor, wooing Hiro-san, just to name a couple) but like the weights, pushing through that resistance over time had only made him stronger.

Besides, Nowaki had to admit, since he had been working out for a few weeks now, he had noticed that it seemed Hiroki was touching him quite a bit more recently. Not that his older lover had ever been stingy with physical contact, though Nowaki knew that there were those who would contest this assertion.

While it was true Hiroki was not one generally for overt displays of affection, that didn't mean that the man was withholding. One just needed to understand the professor's cryptic syntax of touch: the hip brushed against Nowaki's when they were both in the kitchen despite the fact there was plenty of room; hands meeting when things were passed at the table and lingering just a bit longer than necessary to complete the exchange; Hiroki sitting down next to Nowaki on the couch so that their thighs were instantly touching. It was a complex language of physical affection that the older man spoke. True, it was concise, but it was also eloquent in its precision.

Perhaps that was one reason why Nowaki had not been quite as forthright about his swimming experience as he could have been.

The truth was Nowaki had not had much experience in the water and was not a strong swimmer. That it made him uneasy was also true. But when he had begun to explain about his lack of knowledge, Hiroki had jumped to his own conclusions about his giant's ignorance. Rather than correct the man, Nowaki had allowed his lover's assumptions to stand.

And now, despite the occasional pang of guilt, Nowaki was secretly delighted with the results of his deception. Having Hiro-san alone in the pool on late Sunday afternoon's was such an intimate experience. The professor tried to be so gentle in his instructions, it was just so darn cute.

Nowaki 's eternal grin widened recalling their last lesson: the feeling of Hiro-san's hands supporting him as he floated; looking up from the surface of the water into the face of his lover, Hiro-san's brow furrowed in concentration and concern for him.

The giant paused a moment, realizing in his musing he'd lost count of his reps.

Nowaki had planned his exercise rotation so that he would always end on this machine. That way he could watch Hiroki for a bit without the professor necessarily knowing. Looking at his lover now, watching Hiroki running, Nowaki considered that while tender teaching Hiro-san was lovely, marathoning Hiro-san was incredibly hot.

At first Nowaki had thought Hiroki had chosen the treadmill so that he could read while he worked out, but the young doctor had been surprised to find that Hiroki, when he was at the gym, gave the physical activity a single minded attention.

Entranced, Nowaki watched as his lover's tight body paced. Hiroki was wearing a pair of loose gray sweats and a tight white tee-shirt. The front of the shirt had subtly grayed where it had been soaked through with the man's sweat.

While in the beginning he had really hoped they could work out together, Nowaki was now secretly pleased that Hiroki wasn't lifting weights. He didn't really find the idea of a bulked up Hiro-san all that appealing: the giant was in love with his partner's masculine litheness, he gloried in his lover's lean strength.

He looked over again and his eyes met his partner's across the room. A silent spark was exchanged between them before Hiroki became self-conscious and looked away.

When he ran, Nowaki realized, that Hiro-san reminded him of a sleek plains creature, something dashing and spry like an impala. Even the man's coloring, with his cinnamon-brown hair, fit such an image nicely. Thinking of his lover in the terms of a fleet footed prey animal, brought out the young doctor's own predatory beast. A slight growl built in Nowaki's chest. It was time he thought, getting up, for he and Hiro-san to hit the showers.

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	12. 5: Egoist: Short: Act III: Workout

**A Thousand Words**

**Five: Egoist Short**

**Work Out: Act III**

Nowaki ambled over towards the treadmill.

Seeing his lover approaching, Hiroki slowed down his pace. "Are you finished, Nowaki?" Hiroki asked panting.

The tall man leaned his elbows casually on the mill's side-rail. Nowaki nodded. He loved the way the professor sounded when his breath was short. "How long do you need to cool down, Hiro-san?" Nowaki reached a long finger over and trailed it lightly down Hiroki's sweat beaded bicep.

"Five minutes?" Hiroki offered, knowing that he really should take fifteen. He was moving at a fast walk now and hoped that this motion covered the involuntary shiver elicited by Nowaki's touch.

"Five minutes," Nowaki agreed, pulling back his hand and pushing himself off the railing. "I'll see you in the locker room, Hiro-san," the man called back over his shoulder as he casually headed off.

As soon as he was sure that Nowaki was out of sight, Hiroki shook his sweaty cinnamon-brown head and shivered again, visibly this time. He had learned quickly over the last few weeks that exercising got Nowaki's blood up (more so than usual if that was possible) so that recently, rather than a workout, their exercise routine had really become more of a warm up.

When Hiroki entered the locker room exactly five minutes and thirty seconds later, Nowaki was standing there waiting for him. Nowaki had already stripped out of his gym clothes and was now dressed in only a thin cotton towel tied low on his lean hips, his flip-flops, and a rather provocative smile.

There was no one else currently in the locker room.

Hiroki glanced at Nowaki a bit warily as he moved to his locker and opened it, pulling out his own towel, flip-flops, soap and shampoo.

Nowaki leaned against the lockers next to Hiroki's and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He said nothing but it seemed to the professor Nowaki's silence certainly had a conversational feel to it; it spoke rather plainly in fact.

Hiroki sat down on the bench and pulled off his running shoes and socks. Then he stood up, tucked his shoes in his locker and his socks in a plastic bag in his gym bag.

Standing next to Nowaki, the professor was always startled by how slightly swollen the tall man seemed after working out: undeniably bigger.

He could smell the giant's scent clearly and always felt mildly disappointed somehow that this musk had to be washed away so quickly. If it wasn't for the fact they had to take public transit to get home and the issue of olfactory politeness, Hiroki honestly wouldn't have minded basking in the essence of Nowaki for a bit.

Hiroki had pulled halfway out of his tee-shirt when Nowaki leaned down, picked up Hiroki's shampoo and put it back in the older man's locker. Hiroki stopped mid motion and asked the younger man from inside the shelter of his shirt, "Nowaki, what are you doing?"

"Hiro-san, this afternoon you only need to get clean enough for transport," Nowaki's blue eyes had a particular intensity to them.

Hiroki was grateful for the cover his shirt provided because this made him blush.

He began blushing even more fiercely when Nowaki suddenly leaned down to him and whispered, "Because the minute we get home, Hiro-san... I am just going to make you sweat all over again."

Hiroki swallowed hard and struggled out of his shirt. "Shut up, Idiot! What if someone was to walk in and hear you?" He growled as his tee-shirt finally slipped off over his damp head.

Nowaki had straightened himself and was watching his lover. "There's no one else in here, Hiro-san," he said mildly.

Hiroki harrumphed at this as he hooked his thumbs in his sweats and pushed them down low on his hips. He glanced over at Nowaki again. Now the professor did not consider himself a particularly modest man, but the way the giant was staring unnerved him.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me get undressed, Nowaki?" Hiroki snapped.

Nowaki folded his long arms over his chest once again, leaned back against the locker and smiled, "Why yes I am, Hiro-san."

Hiroki scowled at Nowaki in an attempt to hide his disconcertion. His overgrown brat seemed to be feeling particularly cheeky this afternoon.

"Fine," Hiroki gruffed, sloughing off his sweats in what he deemed was the least seductive manner. He felt the impulse to quickly wrap himself in his towel but he resisted this, and took his time putting his dirty clothes in his gym bag just to show the big dork he was not going to be intimidated.

"Satisfied?" the professor asked as he reached for his towel. He had dropped his flip-flops on the floor and was stepping into them as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

Nowaki grinned at the older man. He reached down and picked up Hiroki's soap and headed into the shower area. "Not yet, Hiro-san, but before this afternoon is over I will be."

Nowaki stopped outside the door to the showers and looked back at the professor. "Are you coming, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki looked at Nowaki's cheeky grin. "God damn it," he sighed closing his locker door. He walked over to where Nowaki was waiting for him. He paused at the entry and looked up at the giant. "Not yet, Nowaki, but before this afternoon is over I will be," Hiroki muttered turning pink as he said this.

"Hiro-san, you're so cute," Nowaki growled happily at his partner's grumpy acquiescence.

"And you're a dumb-ass," Hiroki mumbled moving into the shower area.

"I know, Hiro-san," Nowaki agreed knowing that the man still needed to fuss a bit for his pride.

"Nowaki, if no one comes in will you wash my back?" Hiroki asked he turned on one shower and then moved down another turning it on too and stepping aside as the water warmed up.

Nowaki was touched by this seemingly unconscious and rather sweet gesture. "Of course I will, Hiro-san."

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><p><strong>Please Review!<br>**


	13. 5: Egoist: Short: Act IV: Workout

**Ah... so I am a little disappointed that I have had to move this series to the "M" section but some reader took issue with the language this chapter. It was my hope that these 1000 words would be more sensual than sexual. This said, the end of this chapter the last several lines are rather explicit. Just trying to issue a fair warning to those of you with genteel sensibilities. **

**Nowaki can be so naughty. (Sigh.)  
><strong>

**A Thousand Words**

**Five: Egoist Short**

**Workout: Act IV**

Nowaki did not have the same issues with temperature that his lover did, so he had immediately stepped under the spray enjoying the momentary kiss of cold against his heated skin and had begun lathering himself with Hiroki's soap.

Hiroki watched as his shower warmed. Nowaki's large hands glided over the glistening surface of his broad chest; they slid, soap-slick down his sides, smoothing the subtle ridges of his ribs and further down over the hard contours of his belly. At the moment the younger man seemed completely unconscious of anything except the simple pleasure of his own skin. The word that popped unbidden into Hiroki's mind, watching the giant in his ablutions was "sublime."

When the water was warm enough Hiroki stepped into it. Nowaki glanced over as the professor tipped his head back under the stream exposing his enticingly bitable throat. Hiroki raised his arms and ran his fingers through his hair sweeping it away from his face. The gesture was natural and excruciatingly sensual because of this. It was a perfect moment for Nowaki: the flex of Hiro-san's tightly muscled biceps, the stretch of his lean torso, the masculine beauty of his face revealed as the wild hair that usually obstructed such a clear view of this was pushed away.

Hiroki turned his head and large hazel eyes suddenly regarded their observer. They narrowed a bit encountering Nowaki's expression of blatant admiration. Nowaki said nothing. He just held the soap out to Hiroki in answer to the unspoken request the eyes had contained initially.

When the frothy disk was passed between them, their hands met and one of those lingering moments of silent affection was exchanged.

Despite the disapproval he'd garnered, Nowaki continued to enjoy his voyeuristic experience of his smaller lover's body as Hiro-san pointedly began to ignore him and focus on his washing. Hiroki was meticulous as always. Nowaki watched as he continued his own cleansing. He smiled at the vanity of the other man's actions because he had every intention of soiling Hiro-san completely again the moment they got home as he had previously promised.

Nowaki watched as Hiroki bent over: the professor's own hands, which were by no means small, caressing down his taut calves. Dipped as he was, the doctor could see the knobbed ridge, the stepping stones of Hiroki's spine. He traced the line back to the curve of the older man's ass. Hiroki's body shifted as he washed turning this part more fully towards the giant.

Nowaki growled for the second time that day, but the sound went unheard, lost in the patter of the spray: Hiroki knew that Nowaki would not take him here.

While if left alone in the showers, Nowaki would certainly wash his partner's back, but he would never do something so risky as to jeopardize Hiro-san's reputation by fucking the professor at the University (outside of that one time in the library).

No, he would comport himself honorably here and Hiroki knew this.

The way the couple always conducted themselves in the shower, anyone coming in would never think that they were more than two men, friends perhaps, bathing side by side. That was part of the buildup. This and the agonizing ride home, Nowaki considered as foreplay.

Looking at the delicious swell of his lover's exposed backside, a wicked gleam came into Nowaki's blue eyes. Consciously or not, Hiro-san was teasing him and such taunting would not go unpunished.

Nowaki cleared his lust clogged throat. "Hiro-san…"

Hiroki started and slightly straightened at the sound of Nowaki's voice, but before the doctor could finish what he'd started to say, youthful chatter was heard and two young men entered the shower.

The boys were so involved in their conversation they paid no attention to the showers other occupants initially.

"I don't know Senpai, I have to get back soon, I told Usagi-san I would make dinner and I still have some shopping to do," Misaki said. He looked at the faucets in front of him with concern, "Usagi-san thinks I am at the library as it is, I don't want to have to lie to him twice today." Misaki had one hand holding the towel around his slim hips; the other was holding his chest trying to cover the most recent love marks the author had put there. (Sumi hadn't bothered to tell Misaki that there were a number of these also marring his shoulders.)

"Come on, Misaki. It's just coffee," Sumi sighed and turned Misaki's shower on for him, he couldn't understand the other youth's hesitation. They were both going to be completely naked in a minute anyway, so why the embarrassment?

He tossed his own towel to the side and stepped into his shower. When Misaki finally lowered his hand and did the same, Sumi couldn't help but shoot an envious look at Misaki's chest. The thought of Usami sensei's mouth roving over someone's body in that way… Sumi turned his eyes to the side before Misaki saw him or before his lurid imagination made him too aroused. "You can't let the guy boss you around like that."

"Easy for you to say," Misaki snorted, "You don't live with the man." Misaki had only been only slightly surprised when he found out that Sumi worked out regularly. The other youth did have a fine physique (Misaki wasn't gay or anything… but he couldn't help but notice) and Sumi did seem to have a certain kind of body consciousness. Misaki had allowed himself to be persuaded to join him at the gym, if for no other reason than the notion that if he could actually build up a little muscle, then maybe he'd have a better chance of fighting off his horny rabbit's advances.

Misaki knew that the author would be rabid if he knew that he was naked in a common shower where other eyes might see him. Still, there was no way that Misaki could go home smelling sweaty: any hint of manly exertion would also set his jealous lover off and the youth knew he would be forced to submit to a humiliating and thorough inspection to make sure that no one else had been accessing Usagi-san's personal property.

Misaki grabbed the soap Sumi offered him and began washing, he turned as he did so and his green eyes popped when he recognized the tall individual just finishing his shower at the bank of spigots across from him. With his extraordinary height, Nowaki was easily identified. Misaki felt his breath leave him, if Nowaki was here then that meant… Jade eyes darted over to the figure standing next to the giant. Misaki gulped: it was the Demon. Hiroki's back was turned to Misaki as the professor turned off his shower.

One might think that seeing the man naked would somehow diminish his demonic power, but it didn't. Misaki felt a cold bolt of fear pierce his belly. Not just because it was Demon, but also because what if Kamijou-san told Usagi-san he saw him here? Even in the midst of this sudden terror however, Misaki also couldn't help but notice that the satanic professor also had a devilishly good body (again, not that he was gay or anything…).

Nowaki hadn't felt it when Misaki's awed eyes had fallen on him, but a certain sense was triggered in the man the moment the youth's eyes had alighted on his lover. Nowaki's eyes had hardened and his countenance darkened before he even looked up to see whose glance was grazing over the pastures of his partner.

His face relaxed immediately, when he recognized who it was however. "Misaki-san," Nowaki greeted brightly, breaking male shower etiquette.

Misaki's face burned brightly as he looked back at the giant. He was terrified of what the tall man might do if he sensed the thought the boy had just had about his partner. Misaki became even more frightened however, when he nervously averted his eyes from Nowaki's face and made the mistake of glancing downwards. The youth couldn't help it, he let out an audible gasp at the sight of the giant's giant…

"No wonder the Demon was always so grouchy," Misaki thought. He would be to if he had to deal with something like that on a regular basis.

Misaki's eyes darted back up and he tried desperately to pretended he hadn't noticed. He politely stammered, "H..hello.. Nnn… Nowaki-san."

Nowaki just smiled at the boy, he understood that his appearance could be rather "daunting." He was also pleased because, while it was perhaps a bit low of him, in his mind, knowing the past the author shared with his partner, seeing Usami's bare boy here now somehow equalized things for Nowaki.

Yes, this working out thing was having all kinds of unexpected advantages.

Hiroki had ignored the boys and retrieved his towel, wrapping it around his waist.

Misaki thought he might escape this chance encounter with the Demon unscathed, but of course the youth was never so lucky.

"Takahashi," Hiroki intoned as he started moving out of the showers, "if you have time to be here, go to coffee, and shop and cook for Akihiko, I assume you have finished with the essay you have due on Monday? Given the way you have been performing in class lately take my advice and forgo those last three things and use that time to rewrite it."

"You too, Sumi," The professor called as he disappeared out the doorway.

Sumi wisely waited until the tall man had left too before muttering "asshole," and focused back on his shower.

Out in the locker room the two men had dried themselves and were dressing. Nowaki had just finished. After pulling on his usual uniform of a black tee-shirt, he looked over at Hiroki. "Hiro-san, why are you so hard on Misaki-san," he asked casually.

Hiroki stopped in the midst of buttoning his shirt, "What in the hell are you talking about, Nowaki? The boy is an academic disaster. If anything I was being too kind."

Nowaki watched his lover's long fingers go back to his buttons. The notion that Hiro-san might be being harder on Misaki because he belonged to Usami and might be the littlest bit jealous came into his mind. The giant knew it would fester there like a splinter unless he did something about it.

"Hiro-san…" Nowaki started.

"What?" Hiroki growled.

"I never did get to finish what I was going to tell you when we were in the shower," Nowaki said stepping up closer to the smaller man.

"So tell me," Hiroki grumbled not looking up.

Nowaki moved in just a little bit nearer and leaned in, speaking low into Hiroki's ear, "When we get home I'm fucking you against the wall in the entry way."

Hiroki did not look up, but Nowaki could see the man's ears turn crimson and his fingers stopped in their motions for just a second.

"Oh?" Hiroki said, trying to keep his voice level.

"Yes and then I am going to carry you into the kitchen and bend you over the counter and fuck you there too," Nowaki purred.

He was delighted when Hiro-san didn't say anything but a small whimper sounded from the older man's throat. He noted that though the professor's fingers were still buttoning, they had acquired a distinct tremble.

"After that you'll be on your back on the dining room table and then… I am going to sit on the sofa and have you impale yourself on my monstrous cock." Nowaki picked up his gym bag and his partner's too and headed for the door. He stopped at the entrance and looked back at his lover.

The giant saw Hiroki sink down to the bench, buttons abandoned. He watched the man put on his shoes and noticed the professor had forgotten his socks.

"Are you coming, Hiro-san?"

Watching the professor rise somewhat shakily, already knowing the answer to his question, Nowaki smiled.

**The End**

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><p><strong>Okay so this last chapter is two thousand words again. You can blame Miss Mysty for that. She put the idea in my head of having one of Hiroki's students see him at the gym. <strong>

**Please Review!  
><strong>


	14. 6: Egoist: One Shot: Words

**A Thousand Words: Egoist One Shot**

**"Words"**

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><p>Nowaki entered the apartment quietly. He set his Boston bag down, slipped off his shoes, slid into his slippers, and shuffled stealthily towards the main room.<p>

It was Saturday and he was supposed to have had the day off. However, his senpai, Tsumori, had been transferred to the day shift and the reckless playboy had recently run afoul of one of his sweetheart's husbands. Now, being medically treated himself, the blond doctor had been unable to make his rounds, so the hospital had called early, asking Nowaki if he would come in his place.

Normally Nowaki would have taken the shift with a sense of reluctance since Hiroki was home this weekend too and their time together was usually precious to him.

Today though, he had been grateful for the excuse to get out of the house.

The reason?

Hiro-san was writing.

The professor had been asked to pen an article for a prestigious academic journal. It was due soon and although he had been diligent, there had been some hiccups with his research.

Unable to concentrate in his office (because of Miyagi) and as most of his resources were coming from his personal library at home, Hiroki had taken to working in the apartment.

Nowaki crept into the front room and saw his lover's dark head still bent over his laptop, staring at the screen but not typing.

He let out a soft sigh at the sight and felt his chest tighten.

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><p>Hiro-san had commandeered their dining table as a desk for his project and had piled it high with books and papers, despite the fact he had a whole room in the apartment for a study. But, Nowaki had taken this in stride and hadn't really minded that because of this, they had not been able to have a proper meal there now for over two weeks.<p>

Nor had he complained about the fact that every conversation that he'd shared with his partner over these same two weeks, inevitably somehow came back to Hiro-san's project. Although if he was honest, Nowaki might have allowed that he was just the smallest bit jealous, wishing sometimes that his lover would be as single minded about him.

No, what really bothered Nowaki was that when Hiro-san was writing, especially if it wasn't going well, his temperament, which was normally fiery, too easily slipped into scalding. And he had recently been burned by Hiroki's frustration so that, even now, his tender heart was still blistered.

This particular outburst of temper had come from the fact thatin order to concentrate, Hiroki needed to have absolute quiet when he did this particular type of writing. Comments to students, lectures, and missives, he could generate in almost any environment at this point, but this other was different.

Again, it hadn't bothered Nowaki that he had to keep the TV off, and he had earphones so he could listen to music if he wanted some noise in his own personal background. But Hiro-san's need for silence was apparently greater than this, and last night the professor had gone off on him simply because he had been eating some chips and his crunching was too loud.

Normally Nowaki was very patient with Hiro-san's eccentricities, but that evening he had been tired. Having just finished his rotation of four, twelve-hour days at the hospital, all he'd wanted in that moment was to be able to relax and eat a snack unmolested in the comfort of his own god damn home. And he'd made the mistake of telling Hiro-san exactly this, leaving out the "god damn," of course, even though he'd thought it.

Needless to say, once this match hit the proverbial tinder, Hiro-san had exploded; they had fought; and Nowaki spent the remainder of the evening eating his chips out on the balcony, secretly wishing the whole time that literature had never been invented.

He had continued to grant Hiro-san his wish for silence for the evening's remainder, coming in at last, only when the crunchy chips had been vanquished; crinkly bag already folded up and ready for the trashcan. Nowaki had then gone to bed without saying a word; not that Hiro-san even seemed to notice.

While he was not generally given to holding on to his anger, Nowaki had even made a point to fall asleep with his back turned to Hiroki's empty side of the bed, rather than facing towards it as he normally would have, lest his breathing that direction be too loud.

When he'd awoken in the morning however, having rolled over sometime during his sleep, Nowaki realized Hiro-san was still absent from their futon. He wondered if the other man had even slept at all, the professor's side appearing relatively undisturbed.

He had lain there, looking at Hiroki's empty sheets until the call from the hospital had come in.

Grateful for the excuse to escape, he had gotten dressed and left without breakfast or even saying "good morning," but Hiro-san was so still absorbed in his computer, Nowaki didn't think he'd ever even bothered to look up.

If Nowaki had glanced back as the door was closing behind him, however, he would have caught Hiroki watching him, biting his bottom lip, brow sadly furrowed, before silently cursing and returning to his typing.

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><p>Back in the present, having moved quietly into the kitchen, Nowaki now studied his lover from where he stood at the counter, wondering whether or not it was safe to try and make tea.<p>

Stepping over to the stove, he realized Hiro-san had already put the electric kettle on and then obviously forgotten about it, as all the water in it was almost gone. Pouring what remained into a mug, Nowaki saw there was only enough for one cup.

He silently sighed again. _It figures._

After steeping the single cup, Nowaki went to the refrigerator and pulled a cold can of tea out for himself. Walking over to the table, he set the cup of hot tea to the side of Hiroki's laptop.

Hiroki slowly turned his head and stared at the mug. His brow furrowed but he didn't look up. Nowaki didn't say anything. Instead, he took his can of cold tea, went over and opened the sliding glass door, and stepped out on to the balcony, closing the door behind him.

After he had been on the balcony for about five minutes the door opened again.

From where he sat, sideways in a chair at their small patio table, Nowaki looked over at Hiroki. Hiroki stayed, leaning in the doorway, with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand holding his teacup.

"Stuck again?" Nowaki ventured at last.

"No… Finished." Hiroki looked to the side as he said this.

"Oh?" Nowaki's brow rose, curious as to why Hiro-san would have still been sitting there then. "Just?"

Hiroki sighed, dropped his arms, and rubbed his forehead with his free hand.

"Yes."

Nowaki knew Hiro-san well enough after all their years together, to know that particular rub was indicative of one of his partner's frequent stress headaches. Knowing too that Hiro-san had "finished" the article already twice before, he asked cautiously, "Really?"

Hiroki growled, his scowl deepened, and then he winced.

"Yes."

Nowaki was certain now Hiro-san was in the throes of a crushing headache. And, despite how raw he still was over last night, he felt himself soften a bit.

He found himself thinking again, as he had in his off minutes at the hospital that day, about how hard his partner had been working. He knew the rule of academia was "publish or perish" and, with Hiro-san up for tenure, building his writing portfolio was imperative. He also understood how driven for perfection Hiro-san was: it was one of the things he'd long admired about him. And he knew for a fact that his professor agonized in such writing over the placement of every single word.

As if he'd read Nowaki's mind, Hiroki drug a slippered toe along the ground in front of him and mumbled, "I'm tired of words."

This was probably the literary equivalent to "I'm cold" but Nowaki, though warming, still wasn't entirely thawed yet. "Maybe you just need a new set of words," he offered quietly, dropping his eyes down to his can of tea as he opened it.

"Maybe," Hiroki agreed walking over towards the table. He stood across the table in front of Nowaki, leaning, his free hand resting on the back of the table's other chair, but not pulling it out.

Without looking up, Nowaki said mildly, "Simple words can be good some times." He took a sip of cold tea."Maybe you should stick to those for a while."

Hiroki released the chair and moved slowly around the table until he stood directly in front of Nowaki.

"Like?"

"I don't know. You're the _wordsmith_." Nowaki's voice was still steeped with his hurt over the harsh words Hiroki had seemed to string together so seamlessly the previous evening.

"Okay, how about _thank you_?" Hiroki offered. "That's relatively simple"

Nowaki glanced up and saw Hiro-san nodding to the cup of tea he held in his hand. Half of his mouth rebelled against his desire to remain cool and quirked up into a smile.

"That's not a bad start."

Hiroki moved in and surprised Nowaki, turning around and sitting on the ground between his splayed legs. Laying his head against one of Nowaki's knees, he muttered, "Some simple words are not all that 'simple,' you know."

The rest of Nowaki's mouth melted and he smiled fully now at this.

Reaching one of his large hands forward, Nowaki gripped a tense shoulder, pulling Hiro-san towards him until Hiroki's back was leaning against the seat of his chair, between his lean thighs. He ran the fingers of one hand through thick, brown hair and used this to pull Hiroki's head back.

"Give me an example, Hiro-san."

With his other hand Nowaki laid his cold tea can against his professor's aching forehead. Hiroki closed his eyes and sighed at the chilled but blessed sensation.

"_Love_ for one."

Nowaki set his can to the side on the table."Funny, I've always found that word relatively easy." He kept his voice soft as his skilled, surgical fingers began kneading Hiroki's temples.

Hiroki groaned as Nowaki's healing hands began to push his pain back down to a manageable level.

"Well, here's another one then, Nowaki."

Tipping his head back further, large hazel eyes regarded Nowaki intently before Hiroki looked away again and said in a low growl, "Sorry."

For a few minutes after he said this there was silence between the two men, but it was not uncomfortable. Nowaki continued to stroke Hiroki's pained brow and then finally offered.

"I can see how that word might be hard. So, I'll give you another word I have always found rather easy."

Nowaki then waited for Hiroki to look back up at him.

When, after another minute, Hiroki finally did, Nowaki smiled at his lover, his warmth fully returned. He leaned down and kissed Hiro-san's aching forehead.

"Forgiven."

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

**Thank you for Reading**


	15. 7: Egoist: One Shot: Thanks

**Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica or any of its characters.  
><strong>

**A Thousand Words**

**Seven: Egoist One Shot **

**Thanks**

Hiroki was cooking in the apartment's small kitchen.

A few weeks prior, as it was the start of November, Nowaki had mentioned having Thanksgiving dinner with the family of one of the doctor's he'd been studying under while he was abroad in America. The tall man had spoken of it with a certain kind of wistfulness and Hiroki in a fit of some sort of puppy-eyed induced madness had offered that the couple (even though it wasn't a Japanese holiday) could have a Thanksgiving celebration of their own.

Hiroki had taken it upon himself to prepare the meal, attacking the endeavor with a certain academic zeal: researching the traditions, lining up the recipes on his laptop. Of course as the man was notably not the best cook to begin with the project had not been without its complications.

Part of this had come before the actual cooking had even started in the obtaining of certain ingredients. Hiroki had been forced to swallow his pride and seek out Akihiko's assistance, as prior to his Misaki days the author had eaten out quite a bit and frequented the type of establishments where the elements of the meals were a bit more exotic than Panda-san's.

The author still had contacts with some of the chefs, so he'd been able to help Hiroki secure some of the more tricky items, though not without forcing the professor to endure a certain amount of teasing.

"That giant of yours, has you whipped old man," Akihiko had drawled, "what kind of magic does he have that can induce you into the kitchen?"

Hiroki had scowled at his friend, "I don't know," the professor had retorted drily. "Maybe I'll ask your boyfriend the next time I see him… you know the one who cuts hotdogs into octopi and apples into bunnies for you."

Akihiko looked rather disconcerted at Hiroki's comment. "Who told you that?" the author asked uncomfortably. "And he's my tenant not my boyfriend," Akihiko said, knowing that Misaki was currently one of the professor's students at the moment and not wishing to cause the boy any issues.

The academic had snorted at his friend's falsehood. The two men had gone drinking about two weeks ago while Misaki was out of town for a few days on a science fieldtrip and the author had been inconsolable. "That's not what you said the last time we went drinking Akihiko. It appears that I'm not the only one who gets talkative when there's an excess of liquor involved."

After that Akihiko had ceased his teasing rather rapidly and had settled in to helping Hiroki get what he needed.

As he was cooking, Hiroki scowled at the memory. That and the fact that the reading glasses he was wearing so he could double check the directions on his laptop, kept getting steamed every time he lingered over the stove so that he couldn't see through them.

In the meantime, while Hiroki was struggling to complete the meal, Nowaki was watching the man from where he'd been banished to the couch in the front room. The giant had been relegated to his current station because he couldn't keep his fingers out of the dishes or his hands off Hiroki.

Hiroki was cooking wearing just a tee-shirt and boxers. The man had started preparing the meal the moment he rose that morning and had not changed from what he'd been sleeping in. The normally perpetually cold professor had declared he preferred to maintain this uniform as the kitchen got too heated for him otherwise.

As far as the giant was concerned the oven in the kitchen wasn't the only thing that was hot today, nor was it just the food that looked particularly tasty. Nowaki watched his lover with a hunger that was for far more than turkey: the curve of Hiroki's taut bare calves as the scholar moved around the kitchen, the way the man's biceps flexed, visible in the short-sleeved, white tee he had on as he stirred and mashed. There was also the professor's wild hair, made even more unruly by the steam from the various pots on the stove.

The only thing that might have made the picture more enticing, was if Hiroki had been wearing an apron, but the professor had made his anti-apron stance quite adamantly some time ago and Nowaki knew better than to press the issue at this point.

The tall man was enjoying a particularly lovely view, as Hiroki was bending down slightly, opening the oven to check on the turkey.

Hiroki felt Nowaki's eyes on him. He caught his lover's lewd stare and scowled. "I think everything is ready Nowaki," he said as a blush colored his cheeks.

"Well, I don't know about the food… but I know I'm ready Hiro-san," Nowaki purred and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the professor.

Hiroki ignored Nowaki, though his brow furrowed deeper. "Horn-dog," he growled, "just help me get the food to the table."

Nowaki had set the table earlier. Once everything was arranged the two men sat down together.

"So this is what Americans eat?" Hiroki asked after the pair had said their customary blessing. "No wonder you were so skinny when you came back Nowaki… this stuff is all kind of weird."

In the past, the mention of that lost year would have left both men feeling uncomfortable and awkward, but somehow now, it was far enough behind them that the two men had each made their own brand of peace with the matter.

"I'm sorry if anything doesn't taste right, Nowaki," Hiroki mumbled as the giant began filling his plate.

Nowaki beamed at the professor, "I sure it will be fine Hiro-san, but I can guarantee you no matter what, the main thing I'll taste is your love."

Hiroki stared at Nowaki over the spoonful of mashed potatoes he was dishing. He blushed and dropped his eyes, "Dumb-ass," he muttered, "hand me the cranberry sauce,"

Nowaki just silently smiled, making sure their fingers brushed as he passed the dish.

* * *

><p><strong>A 1000 words of Thanksgiving fluff for my readers. I know it's goofy but I just wanted to thank you all; I am truly appreciative for you taking the time to read my rambles and for your feedback and support. <strong>**Love you all and thank you for the flavor you've added to my life!**

And X, just so you know it's after midnight here and so this thanksgiving post is actually 14 minutes into the day after. So I kept my promise of not posting anything today.

Happy Reading!

Cerberus**  
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